


Failure

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Friendship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Set during Season 17 Episode 22: Intersecting Lives.“Oh, hey, Counselor, didn’t see you there,” Carisi said. “Did you need something?”Barba raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I hear congratulations are in order,” he said mildly, walking slowly towards Carisi’s desk. “Olivia told me that you passed the Bar.”Something tightened in Carisi’s expression, something so small that were it anyone else, Barba would never have noticed. But this was Carisi, with whom Barba had spent an ungodly amount of time in his office late at night and early in the morning, memorizing every one of the detective’s tells for...well, for reasons that Barba was certainly not going to think about right now.





	Failure

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually going to take a somewhat different tack but then I was on IMDB and read the goof for this episode about how NY bar exam results are actually published and...this kind of took over.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Barba bit back the sigh he felt building in his chest and settled for giving Olivia a pointed look. “Pulling these girls out of Rikers was a morning well spent,” he said, referring to the women whose bail he’d spent the morning in court working to reduce.

The victims, he mentally corrected himself as Olivia returned his look with one of her own. “We couldn’t leave them in there, Barba,” she said, with just enough self-righteous indignation to hit him in the guilt.

She was right. Of course she was right. Gary Munson was a monster, and his victims were in danger.

Still, going up against the CO’s union had always been a risky move, and Barba needed to remind her of that. “And I can’t keep them out forever,” he said evenly.

Olivia shook her head slightly. “Well, we still have Charisse—” she started bracingly, but Fin cut her off as he joined them.

“No we don’t,” he said grimly. “Ken thinks she’s AWOL.”

Olivia’s expression pinched, and Barba couldn’t exactly blame her — he’d been trying to stave off his own headache since this entire thing had begun. Olivia and Fin left, assumedly to deal with tracking down Charisse, and Barba pulled his phone out of his pocket to send Carmen a preemptive text to cancel whatever meetings he had on his calendar that afternoon in anticipation of whatever shit show next awaited him in this case.

He was just putting his phone back in his pocket when Carisi emerged from the interview with one of Munson’s other victims, LaTanya, who followed her attorney out of the precinct. Barba watched Carisi closely as the other man slumped towards his desk, looking as exhausted as Barba felt. “Detective,” Barba said, and Carisi glanced up at him.

“Oh, hey, Counselor, didn’t see you there,” Carisi said. “Did you need something?”

Barba raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I hear congratulations are in order,” he said mildly, walking slowly towards Carisi’s desk. “Olivia told me that you passed the Bar.”

Something tightened in Carisi’s expression, something so small that were it anyone else, Barba would never have noticed. But this was Carisi, with whom Barba had spent an ungodly amount of time in his office late at night and early in the morning, memorizing every one of the detective’s tells for...well, for reasons that Barba was certainly not going to think about right now.

“Uh, thanks,” Carisi said, looking down at his desk and shuffling some papers around. “I, uh, I couldn’t have done it without you, so, you know, thanks for all your help.”

Barba hesitated, wondering how far he should push this. “Walk me out, Detective,” he said instead, and Carisi hesitated. “Come on, you can’t tell me you have anything more scintillating than paperwork that needs to be done right now.”

Carisi managed a small smile, but it was short-lived. “Fine,” he said, somewhat reluctantly, and followed Barba to the elevators. “What’s going on that you didn’t want to talk to me about in the precinct?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Barba said lightly, leading the way to the coffee cart outside the precinct. “Because I know something’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Carisi told him, but there was a defensive edge to his voice that belied his words.

“Really,” Barba said mildly, handing one of the cups of coffee to Carisi, who accepted it mostly out of muscle memory, it seemed. “Then maybe you can explain something to me, because I was all set to offer you my condolences until Liv told me you passed.”

Carisi went very still. “I don’t — I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, suddenly very interested in his coffee cup.

Barba took an automatic step toward Carisi, something softening in his expression. “You work with a bunch of detectives, Carisi. How long do you think you can keep this up before they found out?”

Carisi shrugged jerkily, the back of his neck flushing red. “Long enough,” he managed. “It’s not like any of them care about my law degree. Besides, it’s not like I was planning on starting practicing law straight away.”

There was something bitter in Carisi’s tone, and Barba shook his head slowly. “When’s the next exam?” he asked.

“July,” Carisi said softly. “I have 14 days since getting my results to apply to take it again.”

“Good,” Barba said bracingly. “So let’s get you reapplied, and then I’ll help you study. I’ll talk to Liv, make sure that you get some actual time off this time around so that you can study, and I’m sure I can rearrange my schedule—”

“No.”

Carisi’s voice was quiet but backed by steely resolve, and Barba blinked at him. “What do you mean, no?”

Carisi shrugged, squinting over Barba’s shoulder as if trying to focus on something far away from this conversation. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m gonna retake it. I dunno if it’s worth all this effort.”

“You don’t know…” Barba trailed off, baffled. “Carisi, do you want to be a lawyer?”

“Of course,” Carisi snapped, and Barba raised an eyebrow.

“Then you have to actually pass the Bar.”

“Well, thanks Counselor, because I hadn’t figured that out on my own,” Carisi snapped, glaring at Barba. “That superior intellect must be why you passed on your first try and I didn’t.”

Barba recoiled and had to bite back his immediate snippy response. This wasn’t about him — this was about Carisi, and why the man who could barely stand to fib about being five minutes late to work was willing to actively deceiver his coworkers. But before he could point that out, Carisi sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered, drawing a hand across his face. “I know you’re just, uh, trying to help.” He paused and glanced at Barba. “How’d you know, anyway?”

“Bar exam results are public,” Barba said quietly. “When I didn’t get a text from you with a billion excited emojis, I decided to check for myself.” He glanced sideways at Carisi. “I’m still not entirely sure how your coworkers didn’t catch onto the fact that your name wasn’t on the list…”

Carisi shrugged and had the good sense to look at least slightly embarrassed. “I, uh, I pulled up the list of ID numbers for people taking the Bar and just pointed at one at random.” He flushed slightly. “After I got the email the day before, I knew I had to do something. I mean, Christ, Amanda’s had a countdown on her calendar for like three weeks now. So I panicked.”

Barba nodded slowly. “I get that, I suppose, but….” He paused. “Actually, no. I don’t get it. A lot of people don’t pass the Bar on their first try—”

“63% passed on their first try in 2016, at least from New York ABA accredited schools,” Carisi muttered, in a way that made it sound like he’d been looking at those statistics a lot recently. He sighed and shook his head. “I just…” He trailed off, his voice low and bleak. “I don’t know how to tell everyone that I failed.”

Barba’s first instinct was to tell Carisi that he hadn’t failed, that he had not passed, but that didn’t mean he failed. He had feeling, however, that the distinction would be lost on the detective. So instead, he shook his head slowly and told him, with as much sincerity as he had perhaps ever used with Carisi, “No one on the squad will think less of you for it.”

“They don’t have to,” Carisi said, something defeated in his tone. “I just — I always wanted to be a cop, you know?” He paused, and shook his head. “Ok, no, that’s a lie. I always wanted to be a priest, but, uh, I don’t think that would’ve worked out very well.” Barba cracked a smile, but Carisi didn’t. “So I became a cop, because I like helping people, and I saw law school as an opportunity to help more people. But…” He shrugged helplessly. “Maybe this is a sign. Maybe being a cop is the best thing for me. Maybe I’m just not meant to be a lawyer.”

“You think that you aren’t a lawyer?” Barba asked, incredulous.

Carisi stared at him. “Well, no, as you so helpfully pointed out, you kinda have to pass the Bar for that.”

Barba couldn’t help himself. He huffed a laugh and drew a hand across his face. “You are possibly one of the least self-observant people I have ever met.”

Carisi looked insulted. “What are you talking about?”

“Carisi, do you have any idea how much time you’ve spent in my office arguing with me not about a case that we’re working on, but on some hypothetical because you clearly enjoy arguing?” Carisi looked confused and Barba rolled his eyes. “I’m literally shocked that none of your fellow officers hasn’t snapped and punched you for your incessant reminders about legally admissible evidence. And one time you even tried to convince me to use _Nix v. Hedden_ during a Grand Jury hearing to argue that legal definitions aren’t fixed but instead reflect the views of the majority of the population.”

“What’s your point?” Carisi snapped.

“My point is that _Nix v. Hedden_ is the Supreme Court case that declared a tomato a vegetable instead of a fruit for tariff purposes,” Barba said patiently. “No one in their right mind would consider trying to apply that case to common understandings of consent.”

Carisi’s shoulders slumped. “So you think I’m crazy. Thanks, Counselor, this is a helluva pep talk—”

“And my broader point,” Barba continued, ignoring Carisi’s interruption, “is that you _are_ a lawyer, regardless of the Bar results. All of those examples, and countless more I could list — it’s just the way your mind works, always moving, always trying to find connections worrying about legal precedent, always trying to figure out how you can use each new piece of information.” Carisi shook his head slowly, but Barba wasn’t done. “Passing the Bar doesn’t make you a lawyer. The only thing it does is lets you practice law, which, as you yourself just said, isn’t something you want right now anyway.”

“It’s not,” Carisi said reluctantly. “But—”

“But what?”

There was a clear challenge in Barba’s voice, and Carisi seemed to wilt against it. “It’s not about being a lawyer,” he mumbled. “Or at least, not just about that. It’s just...everyone did so much to help me. I mean, I never even coulda gone to law school if the NYPD didn’t offer to cover some of my expenses. And Amanda took extra shifts so I could have time to study, and she just had a kid, you know? Same with the lieu — we’re already understaffed and she still gave me time off. How am I supposed to tell them that it was all for nothing?” He looked so miserable that Barba couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, resting a hand against his arm as he struggled to find something to say, but then Carisi blurted, “And not to mention, you know, everything you did.”

Barba blinked. “Everything I did?” he repeated.

Carisi nodded. “Yeah, all the help studying and letting me shadow and everything else.” He shrugged. “I just — we were almost on our way to being friends, you know? And I figured, once I passed, then maybe I could, I dunno, earn that.”

Something tightened in Barba’s chest, so much so that for a moment, he couldn’t speak, something like rage whiting out the edges of his vision. He wanted to demand who in his past had taught Carisi that friendship was something that had be earned, rather than freely given, but knew now was not the time. Instead, he settled for taking a deep breath and meeting Carisi’s eyes steadily. “We are friends, Carisi, and that is absolutely not conditional on your Bar results.”

Carisi didn’t quite look convinced, until Barba added, “Your LSAT score, maybe.”

That made Carisi actually crack a real smile for what felt to Barba like the first time all day. “Do you even remember what you got on the LSAT?”

“I’m choosing not to be goaded into answering that, so you should not take this as a tacit admission that I don’t remember my LSAT score,” Barba said, and Carisi’s smile widened. “In any case, and back to the broader point, the only thing you’ve ever had to earn from me is my respect.” Carisi’s smile disappeared, and Barba tightened his grip on Carisi’s arm. “And you’ve more than done that, Detective. And if I’ve somehow led you to believe the opposite, then it’s me who’s failed, not you.”

Carisi ducked his head and was silent for so long that Barba was beginning to worry that he’d said the wrong thing. But then Carisi looked up, his eyes just a little bit wet, and gave Barba a shaky smile. “Rafael Barba, admitting to possible failure,” he said. “Never thought I’d live to see this day.”

Barba rolled his eyes and finally let go of Carisi’s arm. “Yes, well, try not to let it go to your head,” he sniped, even as he returned Carisi’s smile with one of his own.

Carisi’s expression softened. “Never.”

Barba nodded and slowly took a step away from him. “Eleven days,” he said, and Carisi looked confused for a moment. “You have eleven days to make up your mind about retaking the Bar. I will respect whatever choice you make, and I’m not going to tell anyone that you didn’t pass.”

Carisi nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

“Keep me posted on the Munson case,” Barba told him before turning and walking away, mentally counting down in his head, a smile breaking out across his face as Carisi shouted after him.

“I’m gonna retake it.”

“I know,” Barba called back without pausing.

“Whaddya mean, you _know_?”

Now Barba did pause and glanced over his shoulder. “You know us lawyers, Carisi,” he said, his smile sharpening into a smirk. “We don’t like to admit defeat.”

Carisi grinned and Barba turned away before allowing himself to grin as well. Helping Carisi study to take the Bar again would undoubtedly take a lot of schedule juggling, and carving out what little precious free time Barba had, but he had a feeling that in the end, it’d be worth it.

Besides, that’s just what friends did for each other.


End file.
